


Xader's Challenge

by Aaron_The_8th_Demon



Category: Warhammer 40.000
Genre: Chaos, Chaos Headcanon, Chaos Space Marines - Freeform, Gen, Leadership, Mentor/Protégé, Original Chaos Warband, Recruitment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-17
Updated: 2016-12-17
Packaged: 2018-09-09 04:58:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8876920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aaron_The_8th_Demon/pseuds/Aaron_The_8th_Demon
Summary: The proxy Khornate Champion of the Apostles of Death warband is faced with a difficult student. One-shot.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Consider yourself warned: this story doesn't really have any action in it, like, at all. It's mainly for fluff purposes concerning my warband and fleshing out some pre-existing characters. Contains brief references to a previous story, The Trials Of Sym'ir, but you can understand this one without reading that one.

“And you’re certain?”

“I was there,” Vergerus snorted, shaking his head. “I would have killed him on the spot, but one of those Word Bearers interfered.”

Xader didn’t really care, so he didn’t pretend to.

“I fail to grasp how this is my problem or even of interest to me, initiate.”

Vergerus’ head shook involuntarily, but afterwards his dark eyes cleared.

“Sir, this means that no new sorcerers will graduate,” the younger Khornate pointed out. “I even killed one of them.”

 _Ah, that’s why you came to me,_ Xader thought to himself. He frowned. “Graduate first, 8-15. Then if I have the time and patience, I’ll consider indulging you. Now get out. I have work to do.”

Vergerus nodded respectfully and left. Xader’s expression relaxed and he turned back to the data slate in his hand, but didn’t really read the list of names on it. The many gears were already turning in his brain, mulling over the initiate’s unspoken request. Vergerus could be somewhat annoying with his stubbornness, but he was a talented fighter and highly intelligent. If he would only accept his fate, he could eventually become a powerful member of the warband.

In the end Xader voxed Kserdiek.

“My lord, I apologize if you’re currently engaged in an activity, but I request a brief consult.”

“How pressing is this matter?” the Chaos Lord questioned, his voice slightly distorted through the bud in Xader’s ear.

“Just an approval request for a mentorship assignment, my lord.”

“There’s a consult after the initiates graduate in the briefing chamber.”

The transmission was cut from the other end. Xader pulled the vox bead out of his ear, letting it dangle from his gorget by the wire. With his other hand, he tossed the dataslate onto the counter in a dismissive motion before reaching for his claw. It had been owned by the warband for several centuries and gifted to him upon his promotion last year, a badge of office that struck fear into the candidates. Not that Xader was particularly tough on recruits; that was Khorase’vod’s job. More often he found himself the unofficial referee between the initiates during combat training.

After changing his mind and placing the data slate in a storage slot on his hip, he slid the Butcher’s Blades over his right gauntlet and pushed his fingers inside the slots. Flexing all five claws, Xader scooped up his antlered helmet and left his quarters. Segrehal, the possessed marine who’d been assigned as his bodyguard, dutifully followed behind in silence.

“If Sodvom so much as wanders within three metres of me, end him,” Xader growled, glancing over his shoulder.

Segrehal only nodded. A veteran of the warband who was at least four centuries older than Xader, his combat experience and ruthlessness had earned him the prestigious position guarding the recruitment officer. The only drawback was that Segrehal was never allowed to speak in his master’s presence unless Xader specifically asked him a question.

Slaves and daemonhosts scattered to the sides of the corridor as he and his bodyguard marched toward the main chamber of the training deck. Xader sneered at one briefly, but otherwise paid them no mind. He was much more interested to see which Chaos Marines would be entering his cult - he seldom saw them after initial processing, and whenever he did see them it was usually in passing. But today a new generation of fighters would be pledging themselves to the Blood God, and that thought made him bare his iron fangs in a slight grin.

A few of the other senior officers were already there, pacing in annoyance or bickering quietly. Kravos was late, of course, and Xader knew that the Khornate champion probably wouldn’t appear at all, but he was fine with this. Eventually Kravos would degenerate so much mentally that Xader would inevitably step into the role.

Stalking across the floor, Xader studied the young warriors. They were standing to attention in perfect lines, which was the last semblance of loyalist-type discipline they would display in their lives. The thing that caught his attention, though, was how Vergerus and Luskar were side-by-side. He narrowed his eyes and debated with himself how to react for a moment before ultimately marching over to the line of initiates. Mag-locking his chainsword to his belt, Xader grabbed Vergerus by the back of his neck and dragged him roughly against an unoccupied wall.

“You have five seconds to explain why I shouldn’t feed you to Kravos.”

Xader hadn’t gotten his reputation for being the only calm and rational Khornate for nothing; despite the disgust in his words, he wasn’t outraged so much as disappointed. Vergerus had so much promise, but he needed to accept his fate before he could even be remotely useful.

“You’ve already invested too much time and effort into me,” the former Ultramarine grunted in reply. “And planted my doom inside my skull.”

“You’re an idiot,” Xader hissed. “You’ve spent over eighteen years sniffing around that hedonist, but yet still you’ve let yourself become more drawn to my cult. I _will not_ accept you until you step after us with both feet, instead of having one boot with Khorne and one boot with Slaanesh. You will choose to follow us _now,_ or you will perish. Make your decision.”

Vergerus squeezed his eyes shut and pinched his nose, but eventually nodded and hung his head in defeat. “Yes, my lord. Forgive me.”

“It’s not my forgiveness you need,” Xader spat, pushing Vergerus away from himself. “Now get back in line.”

Xader found his place beside Korlai, the Plague Champion, a few seconds before Kserdiek marched in with Khorase’vod and both their retinues of possessed guards in tow. A few metres behind them were the five Word Bearer liaison officers, and after that the ceremony began.

Xader had been to several of these in his five centuries with the warband, so he didn’t pay especially close attention to what Kserdiek was saying. The Havocs were graduating first to become fully fledged Chaos Marines, their paths having already been determined long before this point. There were fewer Havocs than there were initiates, but not by much.

Finally Kserdiek began calling off the names of the initiates and Xader became more attentive, counting 38 out of 103 initiates who were entering his cult. Vergerus’ name was called last, and unlike most of his fellows his name remained unaltered. This was a clear signal to the warband’s officers that he was significantly different from his peers, though the other graduates wouldn’t pick up on this fact.

Xader immediately recognized this as his cue without Kserdiek having to say a word: “Before you graduate, 8-15, prove you’re ready before all of us.”

“I… don’t understand, my lord.”

“ _Prove!_ ” Xader bellowed across the chamber, raising his voice for the first time in several months. “Otherwise, suffer for your denial!”

Vergerus frowned for a second, then whipped to the right and slammed his fist into Luskar’s face. The newly-minted Noise Havoc was sent sprawling, having been caught off-guard in his misplaced trust. Xader allowed a cold smile to spread across his pale features, gesturing with a single powered claw for the young Khornate to step forward. Vergerus obeyed without hesitation.

“Good,” Kserdiek chuckled, a baritone rumble that echoed smoothly across the room. “Consider yourself proven, Havoc. You are free to embrace the Cult of Khorne from here on out.”

The freshly graduated Chaos Marines approached the young Havocs with buckets of paint sloshing in their grips. Blue, red and black paint was slapped haphazardly over the white-scraped armor, which the Havocs would clean up and customize later. But for now they were all standard dark blue with bright red trim. Finally, they all split into five groups and their champions began issuing the matte black Mk. IV and Mk. VI helmets. The only differences were by subdivision: Nurgle Havocs’ had superficial cracks and rust spots, Noise Havocs’ were artfully carved and embellished with odd designs, Tzeentch Havocs’ were trimmed with black obsidian and Khornate Havocs’ had the stereotypical trapezoid antlers and battered brass relief.

As Vergerus reached out for one with a gauntlet that still had dripping wet paint, Xader flexed his Butcher’s Blades threateningly and glared before he passed a Mk. IV helmet over. The former Ultramarine gave no facial reaction, but predictably his eyes flicked with slight annoyance where a weaker man’s would have shown fear.

After watching the new graduates leave the training deck in clusters, the officers trailed out in the opposite direction behind Kserdiek. The five Word Bearers were wearing their helmets and grouped tightly in the corridor, and Xader didn’t need to hear the faint clicking noises of their vox units to know they were either plotting something or were discussing the outcome of a recently completed plot. He’d never been a fan of Word Bearers for exactly this reason.

The various possessed bodyguards waited outside the briefing chamber, undoubtedly pleased at being away from their charges and allowed to speak again. Xader was the last to enter the room, so he palmed the mag-lock release and the blast door slid shut with a hiss behind him. After taking a seat between Andrios and Kalik Fer, he fixed his attention on Kserdiek.

“Let’s begin,” the Chaos Lord rumbled, folding his gauntleted fingers together on the sturdy table. “Kalik Fer, you will attend to the Tzeentch cult, Cymphor is assigned to the Nurgle cult, Vorol will take the Khorne cult, Vor Lekran, you are assigned to the Slaanesh cult, and Dravoss Ky will teach the new Havocs of Chaos Undivided.”

The five liaison officers all turned to each other with their vox units clicking inside their helmets before eventually nodding in unison: “Yes, my lord.”

“Excellent. Now, some of you have had requests from our young graduates for mentorship assignments, and as far as I can see you’re all good fits for said graduates. The only one I wish to make note of, is that Grozm and Vergerus have both requested Xader.” Kserdiek’s eyes flicked over to the Khornate proxy, who kept his expression carefully neutral. “Grozm is an idiot and there is nothing worth salvaging from his empty brain. Vergerus, however, is highly intelligent and shows much promise. In order to salvage his potential, his training is now under your supervision.”

“Yes, lord,” Xader nodded, steadily meeting his leader’s gaze. “I’ll make my best effort.”

“The only other topic of note is that Nevessot, our officer from the Night Lords, is leaving us soon. However we’re also gaining two emissaries from the Alpha Legion within the same time frame. They’ve refused to share their names with us before they’ve arrived, but their presence for the next few standard years should be at least interesting for us. Therefore, it is all of your jobs to observe lower ranking members of the warband for potential to benefit from this and direct them accordingly. You are dismissed.”

Xader found himself walking beside Vorol as they both made for the Khornate section of the ship. Annoyingly, the XVII Legionary slipped off his helmet and carried it under his arm, clearly about to initiate a conversation.

“You seem to have received the best student this round. Odd, considering you’ve only been in your role for such a relatively short time.”

“Spare me your condescending thoughts,” Xader growled irritably. “And pretend you don’t severely underestimate my abilities.”

“I don’t doubt your abilities, only your experience,” Vorol remarked snidely. “You’re still practically a child compared to us.”

“Youth means nothing to Khorne, only talent and skill. He has already deemed me worthy to serve him, and that’s all I care about. Even Vergerus is barely a footnote, just another means for me to prove my qualities to Kserdiek and the Blood God. I answer to them. Not you.”

Vorol chuckled: “If you say so.”

“I am an honourable warrior,” Xader cautioned, “but you shall receive only this single warning from me. Should I discover you tampering with my teaching methods regarding that Havoc, I’ll flense your skin into bolter slings.”

They said nothing to each other after that, and thankfully parted ways after exiting the lift. Xader wasted no time in collecting Vergerus, who was busily fixing his armour’s paint job in the barracks. They made their way to Xader’s quarters, where they could speak privately.

“You are now under my tutelage,” he announced to the new graduate. “But that decision had nothing to do with your wishes, and if I’d had my way you’d have been executed the first time I saw you with the Noise Marine. But as it stands, Lord Kserdiek sees some potential in you and wishes that to be salvaged. My first order, before I even begin working with you, is that you never take orders, advice or otherwise from Word Bearers. Don’t disappoint me.”

Vergerus looked him square in the eye.

“I won’t.”


End file.
